Saturday, March 23, 2013

Today I spoke at the Breaking the Silence conference at the University of Saskatchewan. This is what I said:

Hello,

My name
is Sarah Mathiason, and last year I was the president of the Saskatoon Roller
Derby League. Through my association
with roller derby I'm known as Mega. Without a doubt, more people call me Mega
than Sarah, and I'm kinda proud of that.

I am here
today because one of the themes of this conference is about 'removing homophobia from the locker room'.
Since I am a transwoman roller derby player, it seemed to fit. Unfortunately, I don't have any tips or hints
about how to get past homophobia. None at all.
If you're an LGBT individual, I don't know if there is anything I can
tell you that you don't already know.
Homophobia, and non-acceptance in general are tough to deal with. It's sad actually, that a lot of us have such
inner torment, that is unnecessarily caused by outside pressure. I wasn't unhappy about being a transgirl,
until I learned that it was "wrong".
I was still a kid when I learned that being trans was going to ruin my life and the lives of the ones I love. A psychologist said that when I was 13, and I believed it.

I suppressed my feelings for a very long
time. I can't remember far enough to
when my first trans-related feelings were, but I kept it a secret from everyone
but my parents until I was 34 years old.
That is a 30-year secret. That
takes a toll.

Even when
society began to ease up, I still had my early life lessons ingrained so deep
in me, that I kept on suppressing my true self likely far longer than I needed
to. So as for tips about how any
transwomen out there can deal with homophobia, I can't really say, because for
most of my life, I hid from it.

So
instead, I'm going to talk about roller derby.
Actually, what I want to talk about today is probably best heard by your
sports associations, by your coaches and captains and your teammates. I told my league that I was coming here to
gush about them, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm here to talk about my experiences in
SRDL, and how I think roller derby as a whole has removed homophobia from the
locker room by being a community.

I want to
tell you a little bit about myself. I am
a 41 year old, male-to-female transsexual.
Growing up, I had a great family but I was a very reserved and
introverted child. I didn't really know
how to be a boy, and society didn't seem willing to let me be me, so I coped by
withdrawing. This continued as I grew
into adulthood. I rarely had more than 4 friends at one time. At my lowest point, right before I
transitioned I was so withdrawn and depressed, I was in danger of losing all my
friends entirely, if not more.

Thankfully,
that changed when I transitioned. I was 34 and I came out to a mostly positive
and happy reception. I lost a couple of
friends during the process, but their negativity wasn't welcome anyway. In general, I was a happy new woman, and my
social circle swelled to 6.

A few
years later I became interested in roller derby. I had just seen the movie Whip It… and
something about it really spoke to me.
Before I looked into joining Saskatoon's league, I did some research
into gender policies. Only one league, the Bay Area Derby Girls from San
Francisco, had a policy published online.
It stated essentially what Easy Break* spoke of earlier. We had to be "hormonally female"
and be able to provide documentation if asked.
I set off to my first practice with that policy printed out and my last
blood work results in my bag, just in case there was a problem. I just want to mention that it's been over
three years since that night, and there hasn't been a single problem yet.

As I
pulled up to the practice venue, my heart was pounding.

I hadn't
participated in sports since elementary school, so I was pretty nervous.

On top of
that, I was a transsexual, about to join an all-female sports league. My
stomach was churning.

Worst of
all was the nagging thought in the back of my mind reminding me that I had no
fucking clue how to skate.

I was a
nervous wreck that first night, but I made it through, and I kept on showing up
for practices and felt myself getting better, stronger, and more
confident. I was so concerned with
improving my skills that I forgot to worry about any trans issues at all until
one night, two months after I started, I was asked to play in a bout.

At the
time our league had one team. Oil City
was coming in to play us and they wanted to bring two teams, so we were
scrambling to fill a second roster. When
asked to play, I accepted the request immediately, and then immediately after
that, anxiety began to rise up in me. I
had never asked what my league's policy was.
Dozens of "What ifs" played out in my head.

"What
if they actually have a policy against it?"

"What
if they don't let me play?"

"What
if I have to argue and fight and risk losing my new friends in order to get my
way?"

"What
if I get kicked from the league?"

It weighed heavily on my mind, but I'm a habitual procrastinator, so I waited
until about a day before the roster was to be submitted before I spoke to
Bonehawk, the president of the league. I
said, "I just want you to know, I'm transgendered. I hope that doesn't cause you any
problems."

She replied "I know. I read your
blog." It turns out she had read it
weeks earlier, so all that anxiety was for nothing. Bonehawk added something that I won't soon
forget: "Roller derby is for women of all shapes and sizes, from all walks
of life. You qualify. You're welcome to play with us any day."

After
that talk, my anxiety faded. When I
started with the league, I tried to keep my gender situation stealthy, but
that's just not me. Bonehawk's comments
made me feel free to just be me - and once I felt free, I started to make some
seriously good friends. Eventually the
particulars of my gender situation became known to the entire league, and
beyond. It didn't bother me one bit, nor
did it bother anyone else.

Time went
on, and I didn't think I could have been
happier with the league. Then I got a
call from my surgeon. It was time to go
in for my orchiectomy, which if you are not familiar it means "ball
chop". I was laying in a hospital bed, feeling a bit sad because the rest
of my team was in Calgary without me.
Then the messages started coming in, wishing me well and congratulating
me on the surgery, saying they wished I was there, but understood the
importance of that operation. The
feeling of inclusion and acceptance really struck me. I'd heard the phrase "roller derby
community" before, but suddenly I felt it.
I wasn't the self-imposed outcast I used to be. I had friends, I had
support, I was loved, and I was important.

Over the
years, roller derby has brought me a lot of experiences. I've felt what it was like to be part of a
team. I have competed, travelled, won
and lost. I have appeared in televised
games, been interviewed by reporters,
and once had a section of fans cheering my name in unison. I've had some great times. I sometimes wonder what that scared little
closeted transkid I used to be would have thought if she knew her future self
would someday be elected president of a women's sports league. After everything I experienced though, none
compare to the fact that I found a group of people I can call my own. We lean on each other, we help each other
out. I found a second family. I truly
believe the most important thing about derby is being part of the roller derby
community.

There is
just something about our community.
Bonehawk hinted at it when we spoke years ago, but I didn't really hear
it because I was too focused on myself.
I know now what she was talking about.
She was saying that no matter who you are, what your background is,
religious beliefs, what you do for work, or what you do in the bedroom, there
is a place for you - but not because we're just so open-minded, and not because we think we have a
superior attitude than the rest of society, nothing like that. This might seem circular, but there is a
place for everyone in our community simply because we decided there should be,
and its our sense of community that prevents us from ever changing that
decision.

Thanks
for letting me share this with you.

*Easy Break Oven, a transwoman from the Oil City Derby Girls presented earlier, and spoke about the WFTDA gender policy hormonal requirements.

About Me

SarahJM is a 38 year old woman who is surrounded by a swirling vortex of coincidence. She loves cockatiels and has two of them, Babies and Buddies. In her spare time she naps. Sarah is also a smellophobe.